


Falling is Relative

by fordisgay



Series: Falling is Relative [1]
Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: Alternate Universe - Relativity Falls, Autistic Pines Family, Jewish Pines Family, Multi, Trans Dipper Pines, Trans Grunkle Ford, Trans Grunkle Stan, Trans Mabel Pines
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-29
Updated: 2018-04-08
Packaged: 2019-04-20 10:20:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,582
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14258871
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fordisgay/pseuds/fordisgay
Summary: Twin brothers Stan and Ford Pines spend the summer at their uncle's yarn store/house in the enigmatic town of Gravity Falls, Oregon. When Ford finds a mysterious book with a pine tree on the cover, he and Stan begin to discover the magic behind the town, and unravel the greatest conspiracy they've ever known.





	Falling is Relative

**Author's Note:**

> Listen. I love the Stan twins. They're absolute disasters. Plus I wanted to put my own spin on Relativity Falls, to make it less of a carbon copy of the original series. So, here we are.
> 
> I tried to keep the first chapter like the first episode, with Stan narrating like Dipper did part of the episode. Then I switched to third person for their fight with the gnomes, and then back to Stan narrating at the end, and then third person for the last couple paragraphs. That POV switching only happens in this chapter. It's third person from chapter 2 onward, because it's confusing and annoying to do it regularly when writing (it really only works for TV/movies).

Ah, summer. A time when you can flip the bird to school, run to the beach for some sun and flirting with the ladies, and just take it easy. … Unnnn-less you’re me.

 

Let’s rewind a little, huh? My name’s Stan Pines. I have a twin bro named Ford. And right now we’re fleeing for our lives from a giant monster gnome made up of smaller, creepy gnomes, out in the middle of Oregon.

 

Okay, okay, so it’s not like I  _ wanted _ to take a trip cross-country to go stay in the creepy woods. Believe me, if I’d had a choice, I woulda stayed home, no ifs ands or buts. (Heh, butts.) But. Well. Ma’s been fighting with Dad a lot, so. She sent me and my bro to Oregon for the next three months while she tries to win the ‘custody battle’. Oy.

 

So why Oregon, you may ask? Nunya business. Well, no, okay, it’s cause our nutty great uncle lives out there, in the middle, super far from any kind of beach or real civilization. Everybody I talked to all the way across the country’d never even  _ heard _ of the place we were goin’. Gravity Falls. They’d all look at me like I was crazy. Check their phones to find it on a map, come up empty. Tell me I was makin’ stuff up.

 

Ford started gettin’ real worried we’d end up nowhere, so I tried to reassure him, like a good bro, you know? Told him it’d be fine. Ma’d said the place was really out there in the woods. It was SO out there in the middle of nowhere that no one in our huge (I mean HUGE) family of Pines had ever visited Uncle Mason, not once, since he’d moved there in the seventies.

 

Guess the guy didn’t like people much. My bro’s the same way. You know he hates showers but he’ll hop in one just to get out of talking to people? Major antisocial. He’ll pretty much only talk to me. But it’s cause I’m great.

 

So we get off the plane, and Ford’s wringin’ his hands real hard and his teeth are chatterin’ from all his anxiety. I, being the responsible caring bro I am, dragged him to go get our bags and then hail a taxi while Ford’s still petrified about endin’ up nowhere, or gettin’ killed by the taxi driver, or bein’ out on our own at fourteen. No, okay, thirteen. Almost fourteen though, honest! Ma ‘bout smothered him with extra kisses (yegh!) to make him feel better before she shoved us to our gate in the airport back home. Poor Ford. He’s such a nerd he don’t have any street smarts and he’s convinced we’re gonna die if there’s no ‘legal guardian’ around to keep us safe.

 

Pff. Our Pa never worries about us bein’ safe, so now I know how to get around on my own! Guess that never rubbed off on my bro.

 

The bus ride from Portland took forever. We sat in the very back (cause sittin’ up front is for squares, and my bro may be a square, but I sure ain’t) and Ford fell asleep almost as soon as we got moving again. Guess gettin’ so worked up really wore him out (either that or it’s his weird thing where whenever he’s in a car he zonks out instantly, like magic… or mom said the doctor said it’s selective narcolepsy…). I felt like I was bored out of my mind. The pine trees weren’t nothin’ to be excited about.

 

But finally, FINALLY, the driver called out we were arriving at Gravity Falls soon. So I woke up Ford, patting a drum rhythm all down his arm and side so he’d wake up faster, and then he jerked up and we saw the sign. “Welcome to Gravity Falls” on a junky faded billboard. There was mountains past the trees, which was pretty cool since I’ve only seen mountains in real life when we flew over the Rockies on the plane.

 

Great Uncle Mason was there on the side of the road where the bus stopped (no bus stop signs or nothin’, just stopped almost random on the shoulder and told us to hop out). He seemed  _ super _ happy to see us, and said somethin’ about always knowing we were gonna look real ‘handsome’ even though he last saw us when we were barely born. But hey, what the heck. His smile was kinda infecting. Infected. Infectious! Ford’s nerd words are rubbin’ off on me.

 

His car’s one of those old fashion hippie VW beetles. It’s got bumper stickers all over it like “save the trees” and “brake for kittens!” and “I visited the Yarn Emporium!” and it’s BRIGHT blue. I don’t think I’ve ever seen a car that’s  _ that _ blue, seriously.

 

I found out real quick what the Yarn Emporium was. Cause that’s my uncle’s business, apparently. And his house, too. Guess livin’ in your own business runs in the family. Forget the whole new age trend of working from home, we Pines’ve been doing it forever.

 

Great Uncle Mason told us to call him Grunkle, because Great Uncle takes forever to say. And then he actually honestly helped us carry our bags inside instead of just tellin’ us to carry ‘em ourselves. The house was weird. It was like somebody took a bunch of ideas and smashed ‘em together, like when me and Ford would build Lego houses and Ford wanted a little dinky cabin with a big slanted roof and I wanted a slick bachelor pad combined with a castle.

 

There was a big round tower on the left side that Grunkle Mason told us we’d be livin’ in till we went home. Two floors in a big tower all to ourselves! It had a TV and a couch and a desk on one floor and then you went upstairs (private staircase in the tower!) and there was the two beds set up for us.

 

So me and Ford start unpacking our stuff. The beds are both real nice and pretty squishy. I figured we’d just get, you know, a fold out couch, or one bed to share that squeaks whenever you twitch your finger. That’s how it is whenever we go anywhere besides home.

 

I kind of expected Ford to be real anxious still. Throwin’ stuff out on his bed, or sniffing because his nose gets runny when he’s upset, or just pacing all nervous. But wouldn’t you know it, he was actually smiling! He kept looking out the windows to check the view, since the house was tucked away and we were totally surrounded by trees. He didn’t even get upset about the pig we had to walk past in the hallway when Grunkle Mason brought us up here. I couldn’t believe he was  _ happy _ being here.

 

Me, on the other hand… I still wanna be back home. I miss Ma real bad. And I miss my bed, and my boxing gloves that Ma said no I couldn’t bring, and I miss the beach and the ocean and how everywhere in the house always smells like Ma’s coffee and the waffle place next door.

 

I guess now that Ford’s all happy and smilin’ all dopey, I’m kinda runnin’ outta gas on the whole “bein’ a tough brother” machine. So now it’s my turn to not cry, even though it’s stupid and I should be fine.

 

I can’t get to bein’ fine the rest of the day. Grunkle Mason even lets us have cookies before dinner and I barely even touch ‘em. Okay, no, I lied. I totally inhale most of ‘em. But that doesn’t mean I’m not upset! I just… I eat a lot when I’m upset, okay!

 

Ford doesn’t notice, not really. He’s kinda obvious… obelisk… oblivious! All the time. Doesn’t notice anything. He wouldn’t notice if his butt went missing. So he’s no help. Grunkle Mason tries to get me to talk, but no way, I’ve only met this guy. I’m not spillin’ my guts just cause we’re related by a little bit’a blood and a name. So I just lie, like I always do. Tell ‘im I’m tired, and go upstairs and bury myself under the blankets. Make myself a nice little warm cave. And then my nose gets snotty and my face gets all wet cause of… trees, or allergies, or somethin’. Not cause I’m cryin’ cause I’m homesick, no sir, I’m not a wuss. I’m thirteen! I’m a man! I can’t be a wuss so I’m not gonna!

 

Or I keep tellin’ myself that, anyway. Even though I keep bawlin’ like a baby cause I miss my Ma and that dumb red stuffed frog I still sleep with even though I’m almost fourteen and the waffle and coffee smell in my house and and and-

 

Okay, maybe Ford’s not as oblivious as I thought he was. He crawls under the big moose quilt with me and we end up sharing my little twin bed the whole night. Even though he kicks in his sleep and even though I pull all the covers and even though I’ve got snot on my face and he smells like an actual pig has been licking him.

 

Next morning I wake up and we’re all snuggled up to each other like we’re three years old again instead of about to be in high school. Yegh! … Okay, maybe “yegh” with a little less feeling, cause he’s pretty warm and squishy even though he’s bonier than I am. And sometimes you just need a nice hug from your bro. But don’t you DARE tell anyone I said that, you hear? I’m not about to be taken down cause you told everybody I’m a big sap.

 

Grunkle Mason makes us pancakes with chocolate chips (something we never get, ever). And the pig gets his own plate of pancakes. Can you believe that? The pig’s got his own plate! Spoiled as heck. Then Grunkle Mason says “guess what, I’ve got a job for you two today!”

 

Oy. It was only a matter of time before somebody put us to work. Dad’s always said that’s what ya do when you’ve got kids, is you make ‘em work since you don’t legally have to pay ‘em. Makes sense. Doesn’t mean I have to like it, though.

 

Before I can even think or get a word in edgewise, Grunkle Mason’s just gone and sent my poor dopey brother off into the woods to hang up signs. And Ford  _ agreed _ to it! He looked  _ happy _ goin’ into those creepy woods with several signs and a hammer in hand. He’s a fruitcake, a real piece’a work. Yeesh.

 

Look, I only followed him cause I knew he’d get distracted and probably get lost too. And I was right, about the distracted part. He found some book in a hole in the ground with a bunch of weird writing in it. Talkin’ about spooks and monsters and magic.

 

As soon as I made sure he got back to the house okay, I took off. Needed a break from Ford’s chattering on about that dumb book with a pine tree on the cover. I didn’t have a bike out here, but to be honest, I didn’t mind. I got used to walking everywhere back home. Town wasn’t so far away, and there ended up being some cool places to check out, at first.

 

And then some guy came along. I  _ thought _ he was my age. And I  _ thought _ he was kinda good lookin’. I don’t wanna give too much away, but uh, I was very wrong about both those things.

 

So this guy, he offers to walk me back to the Yarn Emporium. I figure if he’s a creep I can just outrun him or bash his face in, one of the two, so I agree and we start back to my uncle’s place. He talks kinda weird, but whatever, Ford does too. Then he asks if he can be my boyfriend. And, okay, I know that’s really really weird, and kind of a huge gigantic red flag. But I got excited! Back home my Pa would wring me out by my neck if he found out I liked guys (sometimes), and, well. Most people would beat me up or talk about me bad. So I kinda forgot all my street smarts and using my brain because I thought having a boyfriend was okay here in Gravity Falls. Plus I thought the guy might be… well, like me and Ford. You know… goes to the special class… super awkward… You get my drift, right? So I felt bad about saying no, too.

 

Anyway, yada yada yada, Norman (boyfriend) and me start hanging out all day. Ford is really not subtle at all about following us around and snapping photos with his phone. Whatever. So long as he gets some good ones where I look fantastic, that’s all that matters. Norman drops me back home and I go upstairs to decompress, cause bein’ this good looking and this charmin’ is real tough work. And what does my brother do? Interrupts my peace and quiet to ramble about zombies and shows me his musty journal. Oy! Look, don’t get me wrong, Ford’s my brother, we’re real tight knit, but seriously, his conspiracies are sometimes a little much. Especially when he’s killing my buzz from having my first boyfriend without our dad findin’ out.

 

I refused to let him interrupt my date with Norman. So I made sure to act smug when my  _ boyfriend _ picked me up at 5 on the dot, while Ford sat in the living room being boring and nerdy. Me and Norman went out into the woods (again, ginormous red flag, I know, I know) and he said he had somethin’ to tell me. A thought popped in my head that mayyybe Ford mighta been a little right about Norman being magic or somethin’, but then I thought nah, there’s no way.

 

Until Norman pulled off his clothes and he turned out to be a stack of gnomes I’d been dating for two days.

 

I think it’s better to have never loved at all than to have loved and then lost your boyfriend to the truth that he’s a bunch of stupid garden statues.

 

And  _ especially _ when it turns out those dumb gnomes can’t even tell a difference between girls and boys, so they think you’re a girl (ouch, I thought I hid my chest pretty well). And then they ATTACK you for not wanting to marry 100 freaking gnomes. Complete creeps.

 

I gotta give Ford credit, his nerves about magical creatures ended up saving me, since he came charging into the woods on Grunkle Mason’s golf cart (don’t ask why he has one, we’ve got no clue), shovel ablazin’. He ended up beating the crap out of Jeff the Gnome with the shovel and then freed me after they  _ rudely _ tied me down.

 

Sooo that’s pretty much where the story catches up to how we started. Full circle, I guess. Now we’re back to the beginning, me speeding for our lives in the golf cart while Ford screams and tries to hang onto the flimsy thing since it ain’t got seatbelts. This isn’t even the worst situation we’ve ever been in, believe it or not. You should ask Ford about the Jersey Devil sometime.

 

* * *

 

The twins scream like barely-pubescent banshees as Stan spins the wheel frantically, the golf cart careening wildly around the tree. The golf cart tips onto its left wheels and rolls in a hard curve along the dirt around the Yarn Emporium, Stan taking evasive action at the last possible second and shoving his weight against Ford to bail them both out onto the ground. They tumble a good few feet away, a tangle of gawky limbs that bruise easily on the gravel driveway.

 

“Ugh,” Ford moans, sitting up weakly and straightening the glasses on his face. Stan sits up next to him, holding his hand to his nose and blinking back tears as blood dribbles down his upper lip. “Ohhh, that looks bad,” Ford frets, pulling a face that seems a little green. Before they can do anything about Stan’s bloody nose, the gargantuan stomping approaches, both turning and gasping in fear.

 

“Hey! Stay back!” Ford shouts, though his voice is trembling. He brandishes the shovel he’d somehow held onto in the crash, throwing it with awkward aim but nonetheless with the strength he’s got left after being battered on the ground.

 

It does no good, the gnome monster roaring and smashing the shovel mid-air with its fist and peering down menacingly at the twins, its huge frame blocking out the sunlight and casting a dark shadow over them.

 

Stan and Ford won’t admit to it, but they both scream again, clinging to each other for safety. “Wh-where’s Grunkle Mason?” Stan asks, eyes darting between his brother and the giant freaking monster that wants to kidnap or eat them. Or possibly kill them. He’s  _ really _ hoping it’s not option C.

 

Unknown to the boys, their uncle is inside the Emporium, deftly spinning colorful fluffy wool into yarn with his spindle while tourists ooh and aah in fascination. So focused on it, he becomes hypnotized, oblivious to the monster bearing down on his nephews in the yard.

 

“Give it up, girls! Stan, marry us before we do something crazy!” Jeff shouts in his nasally voice from the top of the gnome monster.

 

The boys clutch their brother a little tighter, fingers curling into each other’s shirts as their spirits wilt a little once more at being called something they decidedly are  _ not _ . Ford sucks in a breath, then maneuvers to try to put himself in front of Stan even though his knees are shaking badly and he’s incredibly lightheaded.

 

“I gotta do it,” Stan sighs, pushing Ford back out of the way as he steps forward.

 

“What? No! You can’t-”

 

Stan holds up a hand, turning back to his brother and staring him right in the eyes. Something neither of them really ever do unless they’re the utmost serious. “Stanford, trust me. I know what I’m doing.”

 

“Trust…” Ford swallows hard, Stan’s arm slipping from his fingers as his twin moves toward the gnomes. This can’t be happening, this can’t be happening. He can’t be losing Stan to… to  _ this _ , on their first summer away from home!

 

“Okay, Jeff,” Stan starts, squinting up at the top of the formation, “I’ll marry you.”

 

“Hot dawg! I knew you’d come around!” Jeff makes his way down the gnome transformer, pulling out an ugly pinecone ring and presenting it to Stan. “Eh? Eh?”

 

“Hey,” Stan puts his hands up. “Wait a minute. You gotta romance me first. I don’t just rush in without some sugar.”

 

Ford makes a face, bewildered as he watches his brother. And then he notices Stan waggle his eyebrows when he asks for a kiss, and it dawns on him.

 

Oh. Stan has no plans whatsoever to go through with this. He may not be good at telling what people are thinking, but Stan’s got a few tells that Ford’s memorized after all these years.

 

What he did  _ not _ expect was the leafblower Stan grabbed from behind him and sucked Jeff the Gnome into. He can’t help the laugh that bursts out as Jeff squeaks out pleas to let him go, Stan baring his teeth as he dials up the power more.

 

“That’s for lying to me, and that’s for messing with my brother!” He smirks a little at Ford on his side before turning back to direct his rage at the garden assholes who tried to kidnap him. “And  _ this _ is for callin’ us a couple’a girls!” Stan punctuates the shout with a rough shove forward on the leaf blower’s lever, reversing it to emit a powerful blow out that fires Jeff screaming wildly over the treetops, far away, deep into the woods.

 

Ford grabs a rake leaning against the side of the house, sweeping it threateningly back and forth at the other gnomes skittering in all directions as they whine and yelp about needing orders. Stan cackles as he blows the gnomes away, the little creatures tumbling head over heel with the leaves in the yard. “Don’t ever come back here again, ya creeps!” The boy bellows as his brother uses the rake to smack a gnome a good few yards. They watch smugly as the last few disappear into the bushes, slumping over the second the gnomes are gone.

 

“Little fuckers,” Stan mutters, kicking a piece of gravel.

 

“Stan,” Ford chides, aghast at his language.

 

“Aw, no one heard me.” Stan waves his hand, scoffing a little. “Hey, uh… thanks.” He rubs the back of his neck, swiping his tongue across his lip to get rid of the blood that’s started to coagulate. “You really saved my butt back there.”

 

Now it’s Ford’s turn to scoff. “Hardly compares to you taking down a whole army of those things!”

 

“I just wish that wasn’t how my first ever date ended. I feel so stupid.” Stan sighs, crossing his arms as he stares hard at the driveway under their feet.

 

Ford nudges him with his hand. “You could’ve done worse, honestly. We just have to stick together, like you always tell me.”

 

“Heh, yeah,” Stan laughs quietly, a half-smile on his face before he looks up. “High six?” He offers, raising his hand.

 

“High six,” Ford grins, smacking his hand against his twin’s.

 

The Yarn Emporium is empty of everyone but their uncle when they walk back inside. Stan’s tempted to blow up and demand to know where Mason was while they were fighting for their lives in the yard, but, well. He’s tired after doing exactly that. No energy left to be mad. Besides, Grunkle Mason might turn out to be like their dad and tell them to fight their own battles. Which is fair, Stan thinks as he yawns.

 

“Woah!” Mason exclaims, stopping mid-cash-count and widening his eyes in shock at the boys. “What happened to you guys? You get hit by a bus?”

 

“Long story,” Ford mumbles, wincing as he limps past the counter.

 

They almost make it to the door to the rest of the house when their uncle calls them back, both boys turning to look at him. “Hey! I totally forgot the past few days, but I have welcome presents for you!” Mason ducks down behind the counter, tossing some stuff out off the shelves with a lot of racket that makes the twins’ eyebrows raise. Finally, he pops up again with a winning smile, holding out two wrapped presents for each of them to take.

 

Stan knows what his is before he even gets the paper off. It’s kinda hard to hide a baseball bat. He inhales sharply in surprise when he sees the knitted cozy covering the bat, “Stanley” stitched in red onto the sleeve. “Wow,” he breathes, finger tracing the letters. He’s never had anything with his real name on it. “Thanks,” he says awkwardly, trying not to seem too emotional about it.

 

“No problem. Stanford, open yours already!” Mason urges, leaning over the counter like a kid as he stares at Ford eagerly.

 

Ford rips the paper off with no fanfare, face falling when he realizes what it is. Oh. Gloves. That he’ll have to find a way to make work since they’re knitted, and it’s hard to add another finger to knitted ones without the whole thing coming unraveled.

 

“They’ve got six fingers on both!” Grunkle Mason almost chirps (seriously, what grown man  _ chirps _ ? Stan wonders), clapping his hands a little in excitement. “I figured it must be hard to find gloves for your little hands, so I made these with extra tough yarn so they’ll last a while!”

 

Ford blinks, turning the gloves over and finally noticing there really are sixth fingers knitted just as carefully as the rest into the dark green yarn, “Stanford” stitched in light blue across the backs of the gloves’ hands. “Thanks, Great Uncle Mason,” he replies warmly, slipping the gloves on immediately despite it being June and decidedly too hot for winter wear.

 

“Glad you both like your presents!” Mason grins at them. Genuine. Warm. Loving. Something they only get from their mom. “Now, I think you two need some bandaids, and some brownies. Sound good?”

 

They nod in unison, eyes bright again despite their exhaustion from the day. Stan carries the bat resting on his shoulder, Ford flapping his hands excitedly with the gloves on, and they follow their uncle down the halls to the bathroom. They each get Hello Kitty bandaids, Mason apologizing for not having anything more “manly” for the twins, but they secretly don’t mind. One, cause Hello Kitty’s objectively great. And two, because they’re always having to put bandaids on themselves, so having an adult very carefully stick several on their limbs and faces to cover all their even minor scrapes is… well, nice, to say the least.

 

The trio (plus Waddles the pig) spend the rest of the evening nomming on brownies and watching bad public access TV, which is taken to a whole new level of terrible in Gravity Falls. The boys eventually give up on staying awake and tell their uncle good night, getting a muffled mouth-full-of-brownie “G’night” from Mason and a snuffling oink from Waddles to bid them farewell.

 

* * *

 

_ That journal told us there wasn’t anybody in this town we could trust. But you know what? When you end up kicking gnome army butt side by side with somebody, you know they’ve always and forever got your back, no bones about it. _

 

_ I didn’t expect much of anything when Ma sent us away to Oregon for the summer. Figured it’d just be half trying not to get lost in the forest and half being bored around the house. But it turns out today was actually kinda… fun? I mean, I didn’t like that my first boyfriend turned out to be pervy gnomes that misgendered me worse than my Dad. And I didn’t like that me and my bro almost died tryin’ to get away from ‘em. But still! I had fun teaching ‘em a lesson. _

 

_ Who knows? Maybe me and Ford’ll find some more mysterious stuff this summer. Deep, dark secrets that nobody’d ever let see the light of day. _

 

* * *

 

Walking up the stairs very carefully, missing all the creaky parts of the floorboards as he goes, Mason peers at the door to the twins’ room, watching as the lamplight winks out under the doorway and straining his ears for any sound. Satisfied, he nods once and creeps back downstairs. Down to the library that his skinnier nephew had been enamored with the first day the boys arrived. He clicks on a flashlight, shining the yellowed beam on a particular shelf that looks entirely unimpressive any other time.

 

That is, until he pulls back on the spine of an inconspicuous green book of Byron & Keats, stepping away as the shelf turns halfway to reveal a passage covered in midnight beyond, a chill creeping out from the dark.

 

Mason walks partway through, leaning back out halfway to shift his eyes over the room for any sign of being followed. Spotting nothing, he pulls the edge of the shelf toward him, disappearing into the blackness and the shelf resuming its position, untouched and silent.


End file.
